


I'm Really Keen on This Machine

by ghostyouknow



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Body Modification, Crack, Cyborgs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostyouknow/pseuds/ghostyouknow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared is an AWOL cyborg whose past injuries pose certain limitations. Misha's a creative thinker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Really Keen on This Machine

“Huh,” Jared said. “That different.”

“Do you want a fun penis or not?” Misha held up the component he'd created––a phallus of comfortable size and appealing texture, not quite capable of releasing liquid waste, but otherwise functional in the usual ways. It would take a little extra care, this penis, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and they were beggars, the both of them.

Jared bit his lip. “Maybe I don't need one. It's not like it's gonna feel the same, anyway.”

“You're right. It won't.” Misha ran his fingers from tip to base. He may or may not have created it with some of his own preferences in mind, as well as the few details Jared had managed to stammer, his flesh-cheek flushing bright with blood. “The technology's good, Jared, but it's not that good. Especially not out here. I can create the parts, I can put them on you, but I can't wire new nerve networks or connect them to your brain.”

The more advanced planets were developing that ability, perfecting a combination of surgery and operant condition that not only fooled the brain into accepting artificial attachments as natural appendages, but created complex feedback loops. If only Jared hadn't lost three-fourths of his body as a young soldier on a supply run, only to cut-and-run before his third tour of duty, he might still be on one of those cushy planets, and not on this jungle-swamped rock with blood-sucking arthropods the size of chickens.

He'd be better of there. Hell, he'd be better off bobbing around a barren dessert, where the atmosphere didn't supply quite so many opportunities for corrosion. Misha would miss him, though. The blood-sucking arthropods didn't make for good friends, much less generous lovers.

Jared looked at his brand new penis, Misha's painstaking labor of love, with obvious trepidation. “Do I even need it? I do fine with what I've got.”

“Jared, you want to have sex like you used to. That's exactly what you told me. 'Misha, sometimes I miss having a dick cleared for sexual activity, because I love being masturbated while someone pounds my ass.'”

Jared chewed his lip. “I'm not getting my dick back, though.”

“You're not. You're getting this dick.” Misha walked to where Jared was sitting at their dinky kitchen table, in one of the dinky kitchen chairs he'd built from the jungle's few non-poisonous trees. Jared spread his legs, creating a space for Misha, who had a habit of inserting himself anywhere Jared would let him. He knelt between Jared's thighs, his spare hand stroking a length of strong, natural muscle.

“What's the point, then?" Jared asked. "I'll be able to fuck you, I guess, but I've never needed a dick for that.”

“This––” Misha waved Jared's new dick, which may or not have been a good idea, judging from his partner's nervous pallor “––has been designed by its brilliant creator to tap into what's left of your pudendal nerve. You still have a little, which is why you didn't need an artificial sphincter. It's the dorsal and posterior scrotal nerves that you're missing.”

Misha forced his voice steady through his description. Part of him wanted to curl protectively over his own genitalia and keep them warm and safe forever, but that wasn't likely to reassure Jared. Another part of him wanted to vomit, just thinking of the trauma Jared had endured. The fact that he'd come out on the other side, buoyant and sunny as playful, was no less than a miracle.

Misha wasn't religious. He had no place to direct his gratefulness except to Jared, who never seemed to understand how wonderful Misha found him. Misha couldn't blame him, really. Jared was a gift, as far as he was concerned, while Jared associated Misha with being broken, dishonored and exiled. They never would've met, if Misha hadn't been dumped here to die on his own. If Jared hadn't crash-landed with that same goal in mind.

“I'll feel like I'll have an erection?”

“You will have an erection. This thing doesn't get soft. Also, the tubing won't hold up to frequent urination, so you'll have to switch back to your old penis for bathroom activities.” Jared looked queasy and nervous again, so Misha pulled himself up and kissed his mouth, one hand dropping to caress the unfeeling, utilitarian plastic between Jared's legs. “You'll feel my ass around your dick. Won't that be nice?”

“But I won't feel things like I used to?”

“No, not how you used to,” Misha said, “but far more than you're used to.”

Jared nodded, his mouth brushing Misha's cheek. “Okay, then. Let's do this.”

Three hours later, and Misha had completed the initial, most time-consuming installation (after this, it would be easier to attach Jared's for-sex penis; a simple matter of aligning what needed to be aligned and triggering the locking mechanism) and flicked the on-switch.

Jared sat on the bed, looking excited and a little nervous, his new phallus standing tall between his artificial hips, the head pointing toward his human belly. Misha adored that vulnerable piece of skin and muscle––the fact that it had made it through Jared's battles, when so little of him could say the same.

“So can I, erm, touch?” Jared asked.

Misha's mouth went dry. He nodded. He knew it would work, but he didn't know to what extent. If Jared didn't register more than a slight pressure, he didn't know what he'd do.

That was a lie; he'd go back to the abandoned colony and comb it again for parts that time and weather hadn't yet destroyed. Misha hadn't figured out how to get Jared's ship up and running, but he'd wanted to do this one, smaller thing. For Jared, whom he credited for his continued survival, since bloody revenge fantasies had only sustained him through the first year or so of fighting off predators and eating arthropods for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Jared tentatively ran his right thumb––a Padalecki original––over the head of his new dick. His mouth twitched, and he tried again, this time with his whole hand. His brow knit. Misha wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

“Jared?”

“It's, um, it's faint. But I think I feel something. Deeper than I'm used to, if that makes sense.”

“The more you're stimulated, the more your body will smooth out the communication pathways.”

Jared's brain hadn't needed to respond to that part of his body for quite some time, though his hypogastric nerve remained and allowed him to respond to some kinds of sex.

“Good to know.” Jared stroked himself again. A good pump. “I don't think the same places are sensitive. It's just––it's different. ”

Misha felt the skin stretch at the corners of his mouth, which was odd, because he hadn't authorized his face to smile or to grimace or to change expressions at all. “That's what happens when someone won't give me detailed descriptions. I had to base most of it on myself.”

Jared's eyes narrowed, but it wasn't like he didn't know how to make Misha come. His wrist flexed as he adjusted the angle of his stroke. His mouth parted, and he gasped. His hand fell away from his dick, like he felt too overwhelmed to continue. “Whoa. I'm definitely getting something.”

Misha's knees shook. He tried to disguise it by rocking on his feet. “Is it okay?”

Jared grinned wide and white. “It hurts a little.”

“Oh.” Misha tried not to let the disappointment crush him. “The nerves might be too damaged. Damaged nerves misfire like that. I'm sorry, Jared, but at this point, we can't count on them healing.”

“It's not just pain, and it's not bad. Like a twinge.” Jared flopped back on the bed––another thing Misha had made. He'd sewn the mattress from an emergency parachute, stuffed it with black leaves (the deadlier flesh-eating parasites tended to leave them alone) and propped it on a simple but steady frame. He'd found bug nets at the colony, so at least he hadn't needed to weave any nets. The failed settlement had been a lucky find. Whether its inhabitants had fled suddenly or died suddenly, Misha didn't know, but they'd been generous in leaving behind supplies. If not for them, he probably wouldn't have survived long enough to discover Jared.

Misha's hands twitched. He didn't know what to do with them, much less the rest of himself. “Do you want to switch back?”

“Are you kidding?” Jared shook his head, still grinning like a loon. He held out one hand, his fingers curling in invitation. “Jesus, Misha. What are you doing all the way over there? I want help playing with this thing.”

Misha stumbled forward, like he'd been pulled, his body landing half on Jared, who pulled him up for a kiss. Their bodies moved together. Misha felt the dick he'd designed press against his stomach. Jared shuddered with excitement that probably wasn't purely physical, mechanical and biological hands working in tandem to get Misha where he wanted him. All available evidence said that was straddling Jared.

Misha planted his hands on Jared's chest, feeling its metal plates, and held himself up. “Jared, you only just got this. Maybe we should take it easy until your body knows what it's feeling?”

“I hope that's a joke.”

Misha raised an eyebrow and lowered himself, feeling Jared press up against his still-clothed ass. He moved, giving his hips a good roll or three, his gaze locked on Jared's face, which moved from shocked surprise to interested to _oh wow too much_ in the space of a few seconds.

Jared groaned and sat up, his hands forcing Misha up and away. His cyborg components made him about five times stronger than any human had any right to be. “Okay. Okay. This thing's too dull whenever it's not way too intense.”

Misha hated the sorrow in Jared's voice. He leaned down and kissed his neck, nipping along a human line of jugular. “The responses should smooth out eventually. I can make adjustments as well.”

“I don't think I can fuck you today.” Jared actually sounded worried. “I don't think you can fuck me today, either.”

“You said it before. You don't need a dick to fuck me good and hard.” Misha lifted up and peered into Jared's face. The original planes shone with sweat, but that didn't mean anything. They lived in a jungle. He ran his fingers through Jared's hair, tugging playfully at a damp snarl and getting an annoyed bat of huge hand in response. “It's going to take awhile. That's just how it's going to work.”

Jared nodded and shivered. “Yeah, okay.”

Misha kissed him, long and lazy. “Can I try touching you?”

Jared nodded and moved them into a seated position, with Misha poised above his lap. Misha reached between then, stroking gently at Jared's latest installment. He'd held it before. He'd handled every component. He'd assembled that darn thing, for fuck's sake, and yet there was something novel and new and amazing about touching it and seeing Jared react. _Feeling_ Jared react.

“Shit,” Jared whispered, and suddenly their home was filled with slow-blinking green light.

“Oh, good. It's working.” Misha hadn't expected the connection to start establishing itself so fast.

“It's …” Jared gasped when Misha stroked him just so. The lights blinked faster, giving the illusion that they were dancing over and around the phallus. “You never told me about your LED fetish.”

“I couldn't recreate erectile tissue, and I needed some way to tell if I was doing it for you. Green's, you know, go-time.”

"Uh," Jared said. Or maybe that was a "guh."

“The faster the lights blink, the closer you're getting.” Misha couldn't stop himself from smiling. He worked his hand faster but kept the pressure, um, light.

The LEDs blinked fast and faster, before all they erupted all at once, and Jared shuddered and cried out. It lasted for only a few seconds before Jared's dick went out, and Misha was blinking spots from his eyes.

“Wow.” Jared looked dazed. “I just––I––didn't I?”

“Is there any question?”

Jared nodded. “It was different, but not bad. I could, um, I could adjust.”

“Good.” Misha bowed forward and breathed in, catching damp and sweat and a clean, metallic scent. Misha wanted to get them both out of here, and he would, someday, as soon as he figured out how to turn the arthropods into rocket fuel. In the meantime, he could stay here, his face planted into Jared's collarbone, and think that maybe, just maybe, he'd managed something good.

Jared crushed Misha to his chest, gentle despite his creepy cyborg strength. “Just so you know, I might get really selfish in bed for awhile.”

Misha bit at Jared's collar, his teeth clicking against metal, so Jared could hear what he couldn't quite feel. “I'm game.”

_FIN._


End file.
